I looked to the left on the
path I walk almost daily.
LOVE on the rock, well tended,
always repaired and replaced
after each wind, rain or swipe.
LOVE is always there, its
twig-stone-shell typography changes
just slightly.

Well tended, I was thinking.

Two steps beyond, I looked to
the right, where I walk almost daily.

Out pops a face for the first
time, carved how long ago?

Three pennies, tails up,
on unblinking eyes, untasting mouth.
Wikipedia explains, Charon’s
obol pays afterlife fare
for this Nordic Neptune.

Well tended.